Drunken Puppy Love
by ncisabbylover
Summary: Densi AU first meeting prompt: "I met you last night when you were drunkenly patting my dog in my backyard at three in the morning. When I asked what the hell you were doing you slurred something about dogs being great and then threw up on my shoes."


A/N: This is the first of 3 birthday fics for my friend Grace (babycastle09/NCISchick)'s 21st birthday. As part of my gift to her, I gave her 3 fanfic coupons to use at her own discretion for prompts she wants filled or stories she wants written.

Prompt: Densi AU meeting "I met you last night when you were drunkenly patting my dog in my backyard at three in the morning. When I asked what the hell you were doing you slurred something about dogs being great and then threw up on my shoes. Fifteen minutes later you were passed out on my couch so that's what you're doing here now. Also, what the fuck is your name and why were you patting a dog in a stranger's back yard in the middle of the night?"

* * *

Kensi groaned, rolling away from the bright light that had woken her. She pressed her pounding head into the pillows in an effort to seek relief. She had almost dropped off again when her hand was caressed by something warm and wet. With another groan, she rolled over again and came face to face with a scruffy looking dog she didn't recognise. Come to think of it, she didn't recognise anything about her current surroundings. Everything was unfamiliar, the couch, the living room, the scruffy yet muscular man looking down at her from the doorway.

"Oh good, you're awake." The dog looked at the man and then trotted out of the room.

"The fuck? Who are you? Did we…? No, I'm still wearing my clothes from last night. And I'm on the couch. What the hell?!" Kensi moaned, squeezing her eyes shut as the pounding in her head continued.

"Has anyone ever told you that you snort in your sleep. Not snore. Snort. Like an excitable baby piglet." The stranger leaned against the door jam and continued to look at her.

"What? Who the fuck are you? What the fuck am I doing here?" She moved to stand but the room began to spin so she compromised and sat up straight on the foreign couch.

"Firstly, wow, quite a mouth you've got on you! Second, I should really be the one asking those questions."

xxx

Marty awoke with a start. He didn't know what the time was but the sun was nowhere near up, that was for sure. Rubbing his eyes, he turned his head to look at the clock. The green numbers stared back at him. 2:56. He flipped his pillow over and closed his eyes again. He had another two and a half hours before he had to get up for his morning surf and he planned to make the most of them. A noise in the backyard drew his eyes open again.

It was probably nothing but his dog, Monty, chasing away a cat. Curiosity got the better of him though and soon he was climbing out of his warm bed to look down from his bedroom window.

"What the hell?" The noise he had heard was Monty, at least partly. But that was no stray cat standing in the middle of his yard, pawing at his pooch. "So much for a guard dog." Marty pulled on a pair of pants and headed for the stairs.

"Who's a good boy? Yeah, you're a good boy!" A slender, smoking hot brunette was crouched on his back patio, cooing at his dog while giving an enthusiastic head rub to the mutt, who was lapping up all the attention.

Marty cleared his throat. The woman either didn't hear him or ignored him as she continued to smother the dog with affection.

"What's your name, huh boy?"

"Monty." Marty's one word answer startled her and she toppled backwards from where she had been crouched on her haunches, her sinfully high heels not aiding in her balancing act.

"What?"

"The dog's name. It's Monty." He repeated as the woman attempted to stand. If the slur of her words wasn't indicator enough, the stagger of her step confirmed her drunkenness.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Marty. Why are you in my backyard at three in the morning? And why are you petting my dog?"

"You named your dog after yourself? That's weird. Dogs are great aren't they? I wish I had one." The brunette teetered precariously again.

Marty huffed a laugh. "The dog is Monty. I'm Marty. Or, you can call me Deeks."

"Deeks is a stupid name." She snorted a laugh that would've had her toppling yet again had Marty not caught her shoulders to steady her.

"You're really drunk. How much have you had?"

"Enough." She nodded her head as if to solidify her words but once she started her head didn't stop bobbing up and down.

"How about I call you a cab?" His question was lost on the wasted mess of a woman in front of him. She was cooing at his dog again, scratching him behind his ears. Despite her state she was kind of adorable. "What's your name?"

Suddenly she stood rigid. "Can I use your restroom? I think I'm going to-"

But it was too late. A second later she was emptying the contents of her stomach right onto his bare feet. Jumping out of the way of the spray, Marty shuddered before moving behind the woman to hold back her long hair.

"Oops. Sorry." She murmured when she was done. Marty sighed.

"Let's get you inside and cleaned up so we can call you a cab to get you home."

He lead her into the downstairs washroom and had her sit atop the closed toilet seat while he moistened a face cloth. She took if from him when he offered it and wiped her mouth and face while Marty turned the shower spray on to wash his feet.

"Sorry about your shoes."

"I wasn't wearing any."

"Oh. That's good then."

"Not really." Marty commented under his breath. Then towards the stranger, "There's a new toothbrush in the second drawer if you want to brush your teeth."

"Okay. Thanks."

As he soaped down his feet, careful to get in-between his toes, he heard her rummaging in the drawer followed by the sound of her teeth being brushed. He stepped out of the shower a minute later, feet clean, to find her standing awkwardly in the bathroom, toothbrush in hand, waiting on him for instruction.

"Go sit on the couch. It's just in there." He pointed out the door of the bathroom. "I'll call you a cab to take you home."

"Okay." She staggered out of the room, the toothbrush still gripped in her fist.

Marty jogged upstairs to retrieve his phone from his bedside then came straight back down.

"What was your name?" He was just inputting the number of the cab company into his phone as he rounded the corner of the living room. "Hey, I said what was your…" He brought his eyes up to look at her and realised why she hadn't answered him the first time. Spread out starfish style she lay sleeping, her mouth open so wide he was sure his couch cushion would have drool stains before long.

"Hey. Excuse me. Uh, miss?" He jostled her shoulder in an attempt to wake her. All it achieved however was making her grunt and let out snort as she swatted his hand away.

"Great." He muttered, trying to figure out what to do next. Finally he came to the conclusion there wasn't much he really could do. He went outside and hosed off the patio before climbing the stairs to his room, resigned to going back to bed despite the stranger sleeping in his living room. "She's going to have one hell of a hangover in the morning."

xxx

"So, that's who I am and how you ended up on my couch at seven on a Sunday morning."

"Oh God." Kensi could feel herself going beet red and she buried her face in her hands out of sheer shame. "I'm so sorry. This is humiliating. I'm just going to go… Sorry again!" She stood from the couch, readjusted her skirt and looked around for any of her possessions she might have misplaced. Looking at her left hand she realised she still had hold of the toothbrush. "Do you want this back? No, of course you don't. I'll just…" She pulled her phone form her bra and started to move towards the door.

"Hey wait!" She stopped in her tracks and turned to face the blond man. "I mean, you broke into my backyard, made friends with my dog, threw up on my feet, and then passed out on my couch. The least you could do is tell me your name."

"Oh. Oh god. Ah, I'm Kensi." She was horrified at herself. How had she even ended up here? Oh god her head was pounding.

"Kensi, I'm Marty." He offered his hand to shake.

"You mentioned that." She looked at his hand with narrowed eyes before she took it in her own to return the gesture. "Thank you, by the way. For looking after me I mean. You could've just thrown me out on the footpath. You probably should've just thrown me out on the footpath. Again, I'm so sorry."

"No a problem. But I have to ask, do you usually go around drunkenly patting dogs in the backyards of strangers at 3am?"

"No. First time. And last time. I'm never drinking again. Oh god, my head is killing me." She groaned. "I'm just gonna…"

"I'm pretty hungry." He yet again interrupted her attempted escape from this incredibly awkward situation. "And I think you owe me breakfast. There's this great place a few blocks from here. I'll give you some aspirin, we'll go eat and I'll drove you home."

"You… you want to take me, the weird stranger who threw up on you and crashed on your couch, to breakfast?"

"No. I want you to _buy_ me breakfast. I get free food, you save on a cab fare, everyone wins!"

She was eyeing him skeptically again.

"I suppose it's the least I could do… Marty, right?"

"Yup." He popped the p. "Give me a sec." He darted off in the direction of what she assumed was the kitchen and came back a moment later with a bottle of aspirin and some water. She gratefully took it, swallowing two pills and polishing off the water quickly.

"Thanks."

"Welcome." He took back the glass and placed it on the coffee table. He leaned forward and took the toothbrush she was still clutching, much to her embarrassment, and placed it in the glass. "Shall we?"

She looked down at what she was wearing before shrugging. It could be worse. Walking towards the front door but stopped suddenly and turned towards Marty. "I do not snort in my sleep."

"Mmmhmm, sure. Whatever you need to tell yourself."


End file.
